


[vore] I Don't Like the Feathers

by wolfbunny



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Broken Bones, Demon Dogs, Demon!Sans - Freeform, Dismemberment, Gen, Rated For Violence, TAGS ARE SPOILERS, Vore, Well almost, Wing torture, angel!papyrus - Freeform, attempted fatal vore, bad dogs, bleeding magic, did I mention vore, gratuitous skeleton torture, healing vore, lots of vore, of course there is vore, other characters I'm not tagging, soul vore, spoiler: nobody dies :3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbunny/pseuds/wolfbunny
Summary: Gratuitious violence against skeletons, angel-Papyrus edition.Also there is vore because of course there is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Though I have to credit RebornTale for indirectly inspiring this, it isn't RebornTale because a) I'm not currently familiar enough with the specifics to write it and b) I probably don't want to get my gross vore all over it anyway. So the setting is a bit ill-defined, but Papyrus is an angel and everyone else is a demon (but skelebros are still brothers).
> 
> Vore is not the only violence here so beware the tags. It's pretty brutal, or at least that's what I was going for ^^;
> 
> Contains generic bad demon dogs. I didn't want to besmirch the character of the actual Undertale dogs by using their names even for evil counterparts. I apologize to dogs as a species. I've also used "it" pronouns for the dogs to avoid having everyone be "he."

“You know I love ya but you can’t keep coming here like this. You gotta leave before anyone else finds you.”

Managing to keep his voice down, Papyrus relented, spreading his white feathered wings to comply. “All right, Sans. But please try to come to see me sometimes at—” He dropped into the snow under the weight of a dark shape that fell on him from above.

“Pa—” Sans reached for him but was held back by something clamped on his own leathery wing.

The demon dog sitting on Papyrus’s back started to chew on his wing, eliciting a yelp from the skeleton pinned underneath it.

“Stop!” Sans yelled, gathering his magic for an attack. But another dog appeared beside him and slipped its paw into his ribcage to grab his soul, stopping him cold. The dog’s spite toward him sent shivers down his spine as it pulled his soul out, and between the physical pressure of its claws and the hostile intentions flowing in through the contact, Sans couldn’t summon a single bone.

A much larger dog stepped out of the trees and stood, bipedal, near Papyrus’s head. “Ugh, I hate the feathers. Do something about that, will ya?”

“Already on it, boss.” The dog that was chewing on Papyrus’s wing bit down harder, tugging and worrying. Orange magic began to drip from between its teeth as the wing shivered and twitched.

Sans braced against the snowy ground and tried to pull away from his captor, but despite tearing his wings painfully, he couldn’t break the other demon’s grip. There was a sickening crunch and the dog chewing on Papyrus bit into the wing a little further out and pulled on it, but the matted mess of feathers and magic blood held, although Papyrus gasped in pain. The angelic skeleton clawed at the snow, trying to push himself up and dislodge the dog from his back, but the big dog leaned down and placed a restraining forepaw on top of his skull, turning his head so that their eyes met. The dog didn’t say anything, only grinned cruelly and then pressed Papyrus’s face into the snow.

“Leave him alone!” Sans pleaded, but the dogs ignored him, except for his captor readjusting its grip on the smaller skeleton’s wings.

There was another, bigger crunch and Papyrus screamed into the snow as his wing sagged. The dog on his back pulled the wing away from its base, viscous threads of orange still connecting the mangled ends. It threw the feathery appendage to the ground, and blood splattered across the white snow.

“Please stop!” Sans strained harder against the dog behind him as the one sitting on top of Papyrus licked its lips and started on the second wing. Sans finally ripped his wings free and threw himself at his brother, but his captor reacted quickly, pouncing on him and pressing him down into the snow a few steps away from the other skeleton. This close, he could see Papyrus trembling in between the wrenches of the dog on his wing.

Calling his brother’s name, Sans tried to pull himself out from under the dog, or at least to drag himself a little closer to Papyrus. The dog noticed and pinned down one of his hands with a restraining paw. Sans’s magic flared, despite the other dog’s grip on his soul. Something warm and soft and wet touched his soul and his magic flickered out again. Sans turned his skull to see what was happening. The dog that had grabbed his soul was licking it. Their eyes met and the dog gave him a smirk before popping the entire soul into its mouth. Sans spasmed and tried to curl up on himself, but the dog holding him down kept him stretched out on the snowy ground. His entire consciousness was taken over by the sensation of the hot, wet, soft mouth on his soul.

A loud crack rung out, calling Sans back to his senses. Papyrus’s yelp of anguish brought his mind back to their predicament. He shook off guilt at getting so distracted and searched for something he could do to help his brother.

The dog sitting on Papyrus triumphantly pulled off the remaining wing, holding it in jaws speckled with orange magic, more magic oozing down onto Papyrus’s back from the severed end. The tall skeleton whimpered, breathing heavily, otherwise unmoving.

“Hang on, Papyrus, I’ll—” Sans’s words were strangled as the dog that had his soul bit down on it with its teeth.

“Good job,” the big dog said. Sans opened his eyes, not realizing until then that he’d closed them involuntarily, and saw the big dog release Papyrus’s skull. Papyrus didn’t lift his head.

The smaller dog got off of Papyrus, wagging its tail at the praise. “Ready, boss?”

At a nod from the larger dog, the small one put its paws under Papyrus’s ribcage, joined by another dog Sans hadn’t even noticed, and between them they lifted the skeleton’s upper half out of the snow. His skull dangled limply, hiding his face from Sans’s view, until the bigger dog hooked a finger under his jaw to tilt it up. Papyrus looked vague and unfocused, but tears were trailing down his cheekbones.

“Papyrumff!” Sans called out, but the dog holding him down pressed a paw against his teeth to muffle him. He bit it. The dog was unfazed though, pressing the paw deeper into his mouth to force his jaw open, with the added bonus of choking him on a mouthful of fur.

Meanwhile the big dog had opened its mouth wide and guided Papyrus’s skull to rest on its tongue. Sans froze for a moment. The two dogs lifted Papyrus higher, sliding his skull deeper into the big dog’s mouth.

In a surge of desperation Sans tore his head free from the paw of the dog holding him. “NO!” he shouted before the dog gagged him again. He continued to struggle, keeping the dog busy. The dog holding his soul bit down on it again, making him flinch, but he barely noticed as he watched the other two feeding Papyrus deeper into the big dog’s mouth, the big dog gulping, the two gathering up the skeleton’s arms so they would go in straight. Hot tears of helplessness flowed from Sans’s eyesockets, his screams muffled by fur.

When Papyrus was about halfway in he seemed to rouse—maybe it was the pressure on the mutilated stubs of his wings. His legs kicked feebly at first but with growing urgency. Between the three dogs, though, they didn’t have much trouble holding him still.

Sans redoubled his efforts, determined to get free from the dog’s grip or dust himself in the attempt. He managed to pull himself another few inches, freeing his skull from the gagging paw, but too focused on his efforts to speak. The dog still was still sitting on his pelvis and spine, pressing his ribcage into the snow with its paws, and he could only claw helplessly at the ground as Papyrus’s feet finally disappeared between the canine jaws. The big dog gave one last gulp and then turned to grin at Sans, tongue lolling.

“Give me that one too.”

Sans no longer cared. The dog that was holding him down dragged him upright, and he hung limply in its grasp. The two dogs that had been holding Papyrus were now chewing on his severed wings.

“You can have the soul, but wait until I’m done,” the big dog said to someone behind Sans—presumably the dog that still had his soul in its mouth. “Don’t want him to dust.” It stepped closer and hugged Sans to its full belly, folding his wings against his back. Its mouth was open above his face, forcing him to stare into it.

The big dog lifted him up so that his face was pressed into its mouth. It felt wet and warm against his skull—not unpleasant, really. His soul was still bathed in the warmth and softness of the other dog. His mind refused to start up again—it seemed like something important was going on, but the warmth on his soul was so comfortable.

Suddenly he found himself falling away from the dog’s mouth, landing clumsily in the snow at its feet, but it wasn’t there anymore. There was a yelp and his soul was shocked with cold. Righteous anger flowed into it from someone, but it wasn’t directed at him—he felt safe. A furry hand, as big and white as the dog’s, turned him over, and his soul was thrust back into his chest. That was the last thing he remembered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I hope that was some satisfactory skeleton torture.  
> I was gonna end with Sans getting eaten, but then I felt bad so now it's two chapters :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter there was skeleton-nomming and it was bad. This chapter there's skeleton-nomming and it's good :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with a [picture, which you can see on tumblr](http://nom-the-skel.tumblr.com/post/156767651520/heres-a-thing-i-wrote-for-some-reason-is-this)

“Ah, my friend. You are awake.”

Sans blinked, finding himself indoors and warm, looking up to see a familiar face. “Toriel?”

“Yes. Do not worry, Sans. I have … convinced … those dogs to give back your brother. He will be all right.”

“Papyrus!” Sans sat up, scanning the room frantically until he saw his brother laid out on another bed against the opposite wall. He was asleep, covered by only a blanket, but he looked peaceful.

“I have already seen to him,” Toriel said. “He was more severely damaged. But do not worry. He will be as good as new in time.”

“How—? They—they tore his wings off.” Sans started to tear up just from the memory of the rips and cracks as the dog had chewed through the bone and tugged the wings loose.

“Yes.” Toriel frowned, dipping a cloth into a bowl sitting on the nightstand. “I’m afraid his wings were in too poor condition to be reattached. But it will be all right.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Would you lie on your front so that I can clean the injuries on your wings, please?”

“How—how can it be all right? He’s lost his wings!” Sans ignored her instruction, scooting toward the edge of the bed. He wanted to check on his brother.

“I’ve healed the stumps to stop the bleeding, for now. Please stay in bed, Sans, you’ve had quite a shock.” The goat monster placed a gently restraining hand on his shoulder.

Sans hesitated, eyelights fixed on his brother, but then relented and let Toriel clean the cuts on his wings.

Reheating the water with fire magic as she started on the second wing, Toriel sighed. “I do not know what to say to comfort you, Sans. I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been. I do hope those dogs have learned their lesson now.”

“I think they already knew not to mess with you, Tori.” Sans let his eye sockets close halfway, gazing at the wall in front of him. So she hadn’t dusted the dogs—not surprising; she was pretty merciful. Papyrus had learned his lesson too, what could happen to someone like him in demon territory, and the hardest way possible. Shit, he couldn’t even go back home without his wings. What were they going to do?

“Do you have any other injuries?” the boss monster asked, dabbing at his wing. Sans realized Toriel must not have examined him as thoroughly, as she hadn’t stripped him of his clothes.

“No, nothing else hurts. Tori—do you think we could stay with you for a while? Just until we figure out what to do, now that Papyrus can’t fly.” The loss stung enough to draw out more tears in the corners of his sockets.

“Of course you can stay as long as you want,” Toriel agreed. “At least until Papyrus can fly again.”

“Tori. I don’t think he’s ever gonna fly again. What would he fly with? He can’t exactly get a pilot’s license down here.”

“Sans.” Toriel set the cloth and bowl aside and sat up straight. “I can restore his wings. But I am afraid you may find it … uncomfortable.”

Sans sat up again, turning to face her. “How?”

“I’m afraid the process will bring back some very unpleasant memories for you. But I assure you he will be perfectly safe."

“Tori. You don’t mean …”

“Yes. In order to heal him fully I have to sw—”

“Ahh, don’t say it!” Sans cut her off, warding off the words with his hands for good measure.

“It is best if you do not watch. Perhaps I should do it before he wakes up. No doubt the procedure will worry him as well, after his recent experience.”

“No. No, what if he woke up while you were …? You should tell him what’s going on.”

“You are right, Sans. I would not want him to panic, and besides, I really should not do something like this without his permission.”

Sans lay back again, staring at the ceiling.

“I will get you something to eat,” Toriel announced. Sans didn’t move until she came back with some soup. He managed to eat a few spoonfuls.

Papyrus stirred and the soup was forgotten as Sans shifted to the edge of the bed, and would have dropped to the floor if not for Toriel’s restraining paw.

“Please stay in bed, Sans. I will take care of him.”

“Are you going to …?”

“I will propose it to him. Nothing more.”

Sans sat, digging his phalanges into the blanket, watching as Toriel walked the few steps to the other side of the room and addressed Papyrus in hushed tones.

“How are you feeling, Papyrus?”

“Nyeh …? Your majesty?”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I was … talking to Sans.”

“You were attacked by some dogs.”

Sans didn’t want to hear this, but even though Toriel at least was speaking in a low voice, the room was so silent that every word was crystal clear.

“Nyeh?” Papyrus tensed, apparently remembering something of the attack. Toriel watched in sympathetic silence. “Dogs … they …” Papyrus paused for a long moment. “Well, I suppose even the Great Papyrus can benefit from assistance from his similarly great friends, on occasion. I will certainly repay my debt to you, your majesty, at the earliest possible opportunity. Might I inquire where we are?”

“I brought you to my house in the ruins.”

“Sans …?”

“He is all right. He’s right over there.” Toriel shifted to let Papyrus get a better view, and their eyes met.

“Sans! Are you injured?” Papyrus started to sit up, but Toriel laid a restraining paw on his ribs.

“No, Paps, I’m fine.” Sans tried to make his smile convincing. “You’re—” His voice broke. “You’re the one who’s injured.”

“Nonsense, Sans. I don’t remember much of the battle but between Queen Toriel and the Great Papyrus, I’m sure we won quite handily.”

“Yeah, but. But Tori wasn’t there for the first part, and you were … really outnumbered …”

“But I held them off until the queen arrived! Oh, I’m sorry, Sans—I don’t mean to deny you credit if you helped. I just have a very vague memory of what happened.”

“Nah, I was no help at all.” Sans dropped his gaze to the floor by Toriel’s feet. “They grabbed …” He remembered his soul being yanked out of him, rendering him helpless as he watched the …. He didn’t find it necessary to tell Papyrus any more details about that.

Toriel glanced at Sans with concern and then turned back to his brother. “Papyrus, I apologize for arriving so late. If I had been faster perhaps you wouldn’t have been so badly injured.”

“No need to apologize, your majesty. It’s just a scratch—I assume. I don’t feel injured at all.”

“I took the liberty of healing you, but I’m afraid not all the damage has been reversed.”

Sans clenched the blanket under his hands. He didn’t want to hear this part.

“What do you mean?” Papyrus asked.

“Your wings,” Toriel said apologetically, “have not been restored.”

“Restored? Why would …?”

Toriel drew back to allow him space to sit up.

Sans slipped down to the floor and made for the door. Closing it behind him, he found himself in a hallway—a little colder than the room, but he didn’t care. He sat down against the wall a few steps away from the door, curling up with his legs hugged against his ribcage, straining to hear anything from within the room, but the wall was sufficiently soundproof, and nobody came after him. Toriel was probably busy comforting Papyrus over the loss of his wings. And she must realize Sans wouldn’t want to be there when …

What if she was doing it right now? Sans lifted his skull. As unbearable as the prospect of seeing his brother eaten again was, he could even less tolerate that it should happen so nearby yet without him present. What if something went wrong and he could have helped if he’d been there? What if Papyrus was scared—of course he would be scared! And Sans could have been there to comfort him, if he hadn’t been too afraid to watch!

Would—would Toriel come get him—or at least come tell him—before she did anything? It seemed unlikely. Toriel would rather spare him the trauma of seeing it. Once she had Papyrus’s consent she would get it over with as quickly as possible, to spare Sans the anticipation. And to get Papyrus his wings back as soon as possible, he reminded himself. He trusted Toriel implicitly, but somehow he couldn’t quite convince himself that her plan was actually going to work.

How long had it been? Maybe she’d already done it, if Papyrus had agreed readily and Toriel had done it fast. How fast could she—Papyrus was pretty big— Sans really didn’t want to picture where this train of thought was leading. He had to get back to his brother. He had utterly failed to protect him from the dogs, and if there was anything he could do now …

He stood up, shuddering hard enough that his bones rattled, leaning against the wall as he made his way back to the door, and opened it.

Toriel looked back at him, her mouth full of Papyrus’s tibiae and fibulae. Papyrus turned to look at him too, blushing at the compromising position he’d been caught in.

“Sans! I know this must look very strange.” Toriel couldn’t speak, so Papyrus took it on himself to explain. “The queen is merely healing me. She has a rather … unique method for healing more serious injuries, like my wings. She suggested that you wouldn’t much like to see it, because the dogs did something similar.”

Sans walked over to where Papyrus was laid out on the bed, minus the blanket now, and clasped his hand. “P-paps, are you sure? You’re okay with this?”

“Of course, Sans, we can trust Queen Toriel.”

“Y-yeah …”

“It will take a while to regenerate my wings as there is very little of them left. But don’t worry. If anything happens, the queen assures me she can interrupt the process at any time with no ill effect.”

“R-right …”

Papyrus squeezed his hand. “Sans, are you sure you wouldn’t rather not watch? Or if you’re not ready, I can ask the queen to wait.”

“No … no, it’s okay, Paps. I just ... I’ll be here.” He squeezed back.

Papyrus looked at him uncertainly. Sans gave him a reassuring smile that turned out more tense and sweaty. But it appeared to satisfy him anyway.

“Sorry for the interruption, your majesty,” said Papyrus. “I’m ready to continue.”

Toriel gave the slightest of nods and moved forward, sliding Papyrus’s legs deeper into her throat. Sans’s eye sockets stretched in alarm but he didn’t look away.

Toriel took her time, whether to avoid alarming Papyrus or just because he was too big to swallow quickly. Papyrus giggled faintly as she finally reached his pelvis. Sans flinched, squeezing his hand tighter, berating himself for being more scared than Papyrus was. He wasn’t any comfort at all. But it was too late to look away now.

Toriel closed her lips around Papyrus’s spine, as if she were slurping up a very large and knobbly spaghetti noodle. Sans wondered if he could have made a joke out of it if he hadn’t been so distraught. She had to open her mouth wide again for the rib cage. Papyrus crossed one arm against his ribs, pressing it close so that Toriel could swallow it easily. She must have instructed him before they started. But he didn’t make any move to remove his other hand from Sans’s death grip.

With some effort Toriel got his ribs down, drawing his skull in between her jaws. He tilted it to look at Sans.

“Don’t cry, brother.”

Sans hadn’t even realized he was crying.

“I won’t be gone long. In fact, I won’t even really be gone; I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Toriel obligingly held her jaws open so they could talk even with Papyrus’s skull resting on her tongue.

Sans stared at him. He reached for something reassuring to say. “Y-yeah. Of course.”

Toriel closed her jaws and gulped. Now only the radius and ulna attached to the hand that Sans was holding were sticking awkwardly out of her mouth. She stayed bent over so as not to pull it out of Sans’s grasp, looking up at him questioningly to see if he was ready to let go.

Sans nodded to her but didn’t let go, holding onto his brother’s hand as she gulped down more of his arm. Finally his phalanges fetched up against her furry lips, and after a moment he forced himself to release Papyrus to her mercy.

After the hand had disappeared into her mouth, Toriel sat up straight on the bed where Papyrus had been. Sans pushed himself up to sit next to her, and she put an arm around him, pressing him against her stomach.

“It will be all right, Sans,” she soothed. “I will take good care of him.”

Sans pressed his hand against her stomach. Through cloth and fur and flesh he could feel the hard shapes of bones—faintly, but they were there if he looked for them. He looked up at Toriel, who was looking worriedly down at him. She didn’t know how to comfort him when she was the one who’d just eaten his brother.

“Eat me too,” Sans blurted out.

“Sans,” she answered, surprised. “Your wounds aren’t severe enough to need that.”

“I know, I—I just want to be with my brother. Then if—if anything goes wrong, at least it’ll go wrong for both of us.”

“Oh, Sans.” She hugged him close to her. “Nothing will go wrong. But if it will make you feel better, I can. You’ll both just sleep until it’s finished.”

Sans couldn’t make eye contact with her, pressed against her like this. He pushed himself far enough away to look up and meet her eyes, and nodded.

“If you’re sure.” Toriel hesitated.

Sans didn’t answer but, starting to shrug off his jacket and fold his wings, closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see as Toriel leaned over and enveloped his skull in her jaws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, they're both fine. Everyone is fine and Papyrus has wings again :3
> 
> Welp, so that was a thing that I wrote for some reason.


End file.
